Farewell
by yeah-well-hey
Summary: Shortly after attending the retreating Japanese Empire's final meeting with officials from the Greater Reich, Colonel Takeshi Kido heads for the Palace of Fine Arts, where he has one final encounter with Reichsmarschall John Smith. (This story is a stand-alone sequel to Off the Record)


Sadly, Takeshi Kido did not find what he had hoped for under the rotunda of the Palace of Fine Arts. The lone _gaijin_ that stood there, like a roman statue at the foot of an imposing Corinthian column, was definitely not his son. Hands in pockets, debonair as ever, Reichsmarschall John Smith quietly examined the architecture while various evacuation alarms that did not apply to him blared in the distance.  
The Colonel cursed under his breath. Before he could withdraw unseen, John noticed him.  
"Is that you, Colonel? How nice to see you again so soon," he said in a surprisingly sincere tone. "What are you doing here?"  
Takeshi contained his astonishment and gave a quick bow, releasing the blind of his _tatemae_ almost immediately. He noticed two busy soldiers near the water. The first one had a camera, while the second one seemed to be jotting down notes.  
"I could ask you the same thing, Reichsmarschall."  
"Elusive as ever," John smirked, mentally comparing their uniforms and concluding that his was definitely the superior one. "I just wanted to have a look at this place before catching my plane back to New York. It's very impressive. This is where you hold all your official ceremonies, isn't it? State funerals and the like?"  
"Yes," Takeshi replied with a steely gaze.  
"How many people can it hold?"  
"I am not sure."  
"The Empire did such a great job at restoring it, though there are a bit too many Japanese shrubs and trees around here in my opinion. They don't quite seem to fit with the… European spirit of the place."  
Takeshi's face lit up with defiance. He tucked his hands behind his back.  
"_So desu ka?_ How about removing them and adding a Nazi banner on each column? You've not yet invaded the Pacific States, yet you're already planning what venue to hold your victory ceremony in, Reichsmarschall?"  
John grinned.  
"Not at all," he lied, not even trying to sound convincing. "I just want us to record as much of this important landmark as we can, should something unfortunate happen to it in the coming weeks. I'm not saying it's necessarily going to destroyed, but there's always a risk in times like these. And seeing how you people like to burn files, I didn't want to take any chances."  
Accepting the jab, Takeshi offered a cold smile in exchange.  
"We do not burn historical archives," he simply stated, knowing exactly where this was going. Given his extensive experience in the matter, he guessed at once that he was about to be interrogated.  
"Even so. Tell me, Colonel. Since we have the opportunity of speaking again in private… Tell me honestly. Why did you burn the files on the BCR? Didn't you think they might come in handy to me? Why deny me such useful information?"  
"And why should I have favoured you, Reichsmarschall?"  
John shrugged.  
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you and I have had a very… successful collaboration? It wouldn't have been the first time we'd have given each other a hand."  
"I only helped you insofar as it served the Empire's interests. In this case, handing you the BCR files was of no use to us. On the contrary. In case you forgot, let me remind you that we are not surrendering this place to you in the face of defeat. We have voluntarily chosen to withdraw, as we realized the Pacific States are no longer worth keeping. If we wanted to, we could crush the BCR and all their sympathizers. But too many Japanese lives would be lost in the process. It is simply not worth it. Had I handed you the files, it would have looked as though we were asking you to resolve what we could not. It would have sent the wrong message. I am sure you will be able to gather your own intel and address the issue within a reasonable timeframe. I have full confidence in you. Besides, we couldn't make it _too_ easy for you, could we?"  
Satisfied with his own answer, Takeshi adjusted his glasses and drew a blank look from John, who merely replied:  
"I see."  
The Reichsmarschall couldn't think of any efficient or dignified way to extract information, so he was grateful when one of his men approached them and interrupted their little chat.  
"Excuse me, sir?" the soldier asked, visibly embarrassed. "We'd uhm… we'd like to take pictures of the rotunda now."  
"Why yes, of course. The Colonel and I will get out of your way. We'll take a nice stroll through the walkway. Don't forget to get pictures of the ceiling!"  
"Yes, sir."  
Takeshi was about to protest, wanting to take this opportunity to excuse himself entirely, but John grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to turn, then placed a hand on his back and led him along the colonnade. They walked in silence, until John saw fit to lower his arm and resume the conversation.  
"You still haven't told me what you're doing here, Colonel. Shouldn't you be preparing your evacuation right now? Why are you here? And alone, too. Seems a little reckless. You could get lynched."  
"_You_ are the one who is being reckless. We just had an official meeting in the utmost secrecy, and minutes later you are here, taking in the sights in broad daylight."  
"Oh, nobody saw us, too much going on in this city. We're hidden in plain sight. And who would come here anyway, at a time like this? Other than us, of course."  
"May I point out that this is a Japanese Only zone?"  
"Yes, we saw the sign near the entrance. But we just ignored it."  
"I suppose none of it matters anymore," Takeshi reluctantly admitted.  
"Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of this chance encounter?"  
"To my desire to bid farewell to this place. I wanted to see it once more, under the Empire's rule."  
"How sentimental of you. When are you leaving?"  
"I am supposed to board the last ship."  
"Supposed to?"  
"It all depends. You see, I'm also here because… well, I am looking for my son. He admires this place very much. I brought him here when he first arrived. I suppose part of me was hoping I would find him here, waiting for me."  
"He's in the Pacific States?"  
"Yes."  
"And how come you don't know his whereabouts?"  
"He disappeared."  
"When?"  
"Not too long ago."  
"What happened?"  
"We… had an argument."  
"An argument?"  
"Yes."  
Irritated by his opaqueness, John pressed him further.  
"What kind of argument?"  
"It hardly matters."  
"I think it does. You just don't want to tell me. I wonder why. Was it your fault?"  
As John predicted, Takeshi felt attacked.  
"We were both at fault," he snapped. "Things were said, which could not be taken back. So I threw him out of my apartment, and I haven't seen him since."  
"Oh."  
Takeshi felt uneasy, like the _gaijin_ had just plucked a burning incense stick out of the cast iron burner of his inner temple. He stopped walking, peering down at his own shadow. John halted as well and turned to look at him.  
"I'm sure you'll find him soon enough. In fact, _he_ will probably find _yo_u. He knows you're all being evacuated, right?"  
"Of course he does."  
"Then…"  
"I told him he is no longer my son," Takeshi spontaneously revealed.  
John gave him no time to reconsider and charged again:  
"That's a harsh thing to say. What did he do to deserve _that?_"  
"It's not so much that he deserved it but rather… He angered me, and I lost my temper."  
_Why am I confiding again in this gaijin?_  
"Over what?"  
There was a gust of wind. Takeshi let out a long breath, then smoothed his already perfectly combed hair back along his head. John picked up the scent of spearmint oil.  
"As you know, Reichsmarschall," the Colonel began, deciding it would be less embarrassing to pretend his confession had been intended, "I have no empathy. It is like an illness, a condition that I must live with. My son fought in the Manchurian campaign and came back… well, shell-shocked. He had begun to open up to me about it, and although I could clearly see his pain, although I felt genuinely sorry for the state he was in, I could not relate. I have surely committed far greater atrocities than he has, but none of them really affected me, because I did it all for the Empire. That was always my consolation. It helped me carry on with no regrets. When my son expressed his regrets, I understood that he does not love the Empire as I do. It was deeply disappointing. Also…"  
"Also?"  
Takeshi spoke in John's general direction, unwilling to make eye contact.  
"He reproached me for failing in my duty as a father."  
This statement felt like a dagger. John thought of Thomas, and how he had failed him in two different worlds.  
_Two different fucking worlds._  
Takeshi was lucky.  
"How dare he lecture me on my duties? Impertinent boy. It was unacceptable, offensive. And yet…"  
"And yet you agree with him."  
Takeshi seemed surprised. He finally looked into John's eyes.  
"Yes. Yes, I agree with him."  
An uncomfortable silence followed. Both men carried the same guilt, and had absolutely nothing to say for themselves. To cope, John extracted a cigarette from his inner pocket and promptly lit it up.  
"Perhaps it is fortuitous after all that I ran into you today," Takeshi admitted. "I need the advice of an exemplary father such as yourself."  
John snorted, and took a long drag.  
"Once I find him, how do I make amends? How do I make him understand that I…"  
"Honestly, Colonel, I'm the last person in the world you should be asking. I'm no exemplary father, believe me."  
Takeshi frowned. Squinted, even.  
"Why do you say that?"  
The Reichsmarschall turned to make sure they were quite alone. His men were photographing every inch of the rotunda, safely out of earshot.  
"Because it's true. I failed Thomas."  
_Am I admitting this to myself, or to the Pon?_  
"Your son is a hero, is he not? You raised him to be one."  
John shook his head, took another puff. He noticed that Takeshi's boots were better waxed than his and it bothered him more than it should have in that moment.  
"I raised him to believe he didn't deserve to live. Because of me, he believed the State when it told him he was useless eater. I taught him to follow that ideology."  
He spoke in a low, controlled voice.  
"I beg to differ. Ideologies and masters pass, but certain principles are eternal. At the core of it all, your son demonstrated courage, selflessness and an unshakeable sense of duty. All things which the State cannot teach. Things he learned from you."  
The exemplary father brought the cigarette to his lips and mused, staring blankly.  
"What good are those qualities, if they're used in the service of…"  
"You may think of it as a waste of life, but I see it as an honourable death."  
"What's so honourable about being put down like an animal?" John snarled, brimming with anger.  
"I'm not speaking about the manner in which he died. Circumstances are often out of our control. It is the way in which we face death that matters."  
"Perhaps."  
"And from what I gather, his decision was probably motivated by other factors. Wanting to protect other people, for instance."  
John's eyes dwelled on Takeshi's face. He remembered their first conversation, their drunken exchange during which he had almost placed himself in a most vulnerable position...  
"You know, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. I know it'd be better not to speak of it, but it's been eating at me ever since our first meeting. And seeing as this is probably the last time we ever see each other, I'd like to put it to rest."  
"What it is that you would like to know, Reichsmarschall?"  
The two of them began to walk again.  
"That time when you first came to see me in my office. You know, to speak about Juliana Crain. When we… had a little too much to drink. I almost told you about my son. Why did you stop me, Kido-san? I need to know. I just don't understand."  
Annoyed, Takeshi folded his arms.  
"What don't you understand?"  
"You could have had an invaluable piece of information. You could have easily used it to blackmail me. Hell, you could have had me wrapped around your little finger. Why not take advantage?"  
"I don't think we should talk about it. It is unnecessary."  
"I _want_ to talk about it. Just tell me."  
"What is the purpose of you knowing?"  
"So I can stop wondering why."  
"Don't you have more important things to worry about?"  
"I can worry about several things at once, no matter their degree of importance. Ease my burden."  
Takeshi clenched his teeth. Why did _gaijin_ always feel the need to speak of things better left unsaid? Why did they always have to be so brazen?  
_Baka!_  
"Very well," he said, capitulating. "I stopped you for two reasons. The first was that it seemed impious of me to exploit something so personal. I found it too dishonourable, and I could never stoop to that level."  
"True, it would have been beneath you."  
This remark seemed to contain a certain dose of sarcasm, but Takeshi preferred to ignore it and continued:  
"The second reason was more pragmatic. There was no clear benefit for my Empire, only the definite prospect of turning you into my enemy. And what good would that have done for the already fragile relationship between our two nations? Simply put, I did not want to give you a reason to eliminate me, as I suspect you might have done if given the chance."  
John couldn't disagree with that. He'd killed the doctor, and would most certainly have killed the Kempeitai inspector, albeit more carefully this time. No loose ends. And a scapegoat, perhaps.  
"If you were expecting me to say that I did it out of the kindness of my heart or out of some vague sense of friendship, I am very sorry to disappoint you," Takeshi felt the need to specify. "My reasons were entirely selfish."  
"As they should be," John replied, applauding the Colonel for his flawless instinct of self-preservation.  
He moved his attention elsewhere, noticing a fierce-looking statue enshrined between two columns and shrubs. Its head was crowned with a firey halo, and its body was made of darkened wood. Propped up on a large rock, the figure held a tiny temple in its left hand, and some kind of staff in the other. This addition also didn't quite fit with the general spirit of the place. John told himself it would be the first thing to go once the Reich was in power.  
"What's with the buddha?" he inquired, feigning both interest and ignorance. He approached it to have a better look at it, partly to evaluate how easily it could be removed.  
"It isn't a buddha," Takeshi said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. "It is the deity _Tamonten_. He is one of the Four Heavenly Kings. All-knowing, always listening. This statue is a replica of the one at _Joru-ji_ temple, in Kyoto. It serves to eliminate evil influences."  
"It looks like a demon."  
"Do not let appearances deceive you. Gods don't necessarily look kind and peaceful. And some demons wear elegant uniforms and display a noble countenance."  
"Are you saying I'm a demon?" John asked directly, scratching his cheekbone with the nail of his thumb as he held his burning cigarette near his face. "Minutes ago, you told me I taught courage, selflessness and honour to my son."  
"I was not referring to you."  
"I think you were."  
"Do you recognize yourself as a demon, Reichsmarschall?"  
"Many people would say that I am," John admitted, and all too clearly recalled the look on his wife's face when he last saw her. "But I don't consider myself a demon, no. I do what needs to be done, you know that."  
"For the Greater Reich?"  
"Yes, but above all, for my family. In fact, everything I did was for my family at first. I picked the side that would benefit us most. To protect my wife and my son. I climbed ranks with them in mind. Funny thing is, the higher I got, the less control over my own life I had."  
"Are you quite in control now?"  
"Not yet."  
"You may have had your family in mind, but I don't think you can deny that a certain belief in your cause has played a major role in your ascension."  
"Of course it has. I espoused the ideology I decided to serve."  
"Yet not entirely."  
John glanced over at Takeshi, who kept gawking at the statue as if that would make his remark less insolent.  
"I know I've expressed contradictions," John carefully conceded. "But there's no reason why improvements shouldn't be made."  
"Improvements? And who should dictate these improvements?"  
"Me, of course," John laughed sardonically, but Takeshi knew better than to think it was a joke. He didn't react, and the silence that followed only gave John's words more weight and stripped them of all irony.  
Hand on waist, the Reichsmarschall turned to face the Colonel.  
"How do you feel about this retreat, anyway, Colonel Kido? I mean, it seems like your life's work is being flushed down the toilet, if you'll excuse the expression. Do you agree with the Empire's decision to abandon the Pacific States?"  
Takeshi faced John and locked eyes with him.  
"I most certainly do. Keeping the Pacific States isn't worth losing the Japanese spirit. This land is cursed, Reichsmarschall. The spirit of rebellion and blind insubordination rules in the hearts of its inhabitants. For the short time my son has been here, I have seen him grow wild, unruly, disrespectful, hedonistic… just like an American. Eventually, we would have all been corrupted. We might have kept the territory, but at what cost? Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. You see, unlike the Greater Reich, who simply… eliminated those elements of society it deemed problematic, we came here with a more ambitious approach."  
"Ambitious, you say?" John snickered, eyebrows raised.  
"Yes. We sought to educate the locals. To teach them our superior ways. We sought to conquer not only their territory, but also their hearts."  
This was too ridiculous for John to keep a straight face, so he outright burst out laughing, which only confirmed Takeshi's negative views about his kind.  
"Is that what you're doing in Asia? As you slaughter people in Manchuria? You're conquering hearts?"  
"You know nothing about our campaigns in Asia. And laugh all you like, our approach here in the Pacific States was much more ambitious and worthy than yours. It is very easy to just exterminate people like rats, but elevating the masses is the work of Gods. It is the mandate of Heaven."  
"Oh, come on. You murdered your fair share of people. And anyway, your heroic approach didn't exactly work, did it?"  
"It doesn't make it any less worthy."  
"It's funny, I didn't picture you as an idealist. I'm more practical than you are, Colonel. I know that some sacrifices have to be made. One generation must have blood on its hands so that the following ones may live a good life."  
"In this equation you do not consider Karma."  
"Oh, spare me the Buddhist philosophy."  
"I only mean to say that actions have consequences."  
"I'm aware of that."  
"My son's disappearance is a direct consequence of my actions. Of my negligence."  
John related, and hated that he did.  
"Well, all you can do is own up to it and move forward," he generically advised.  
"And how are _you_ moving forward, Reichsmarschall? What's next for you after you topple the statue of the false idol _Tamonten_ and hold your victory ceremony here?"  
Smirking, John walked over to a column and placed his hand on it. He looked up at the carved leaves at the top and stroked the plaster with reverence as though it were marble.  
"We'll see what the future holds."  
He felt something like a nail in his skull. A sharp, brief pain followed by a burning sensation that spread through his body.  
"Does your family require you to climb even higher?"  
"Not really. In fact, my wife was much happier when I was a simple Obergruppenfürher. She hates our apartment in New York. But I did it all for her. For my children. The only way to protect them was to rule over all those who would hurt them."  
"How long will you keep lying to yourself, John Smith? You're not doing this for your family anymore. You have a vision. And perhaps your family has held you back."  
"My family was—_is_ my greatest joy. My top priority."  
"I think you use your family as a way to keep your heart from the Greater Reich. In the same way, perhaps, that I have used the Empire to keep my heart from my family."  
John purposefully kept his back turned. He took a last drag of his cigarette, which he then crushed under his heel.  
"I love my family, Colonel."  
"I do not doubt it. But you're split in two. Otherwise, it would have been easy for you to live a life that would please them. I know _I_ could have done it…"  
"And why didn't you?"  
"Because I also loved the Empire."  
"How is it that a man like you has a family, anyway? No offense, but you strike me as someone who was born screaming '_Banzai_!'"  
Takeshi found the joke unsavoury, but decided to overlook the _gaijin'_s characteristic impudence.  
"Having a family was expected of me," he explained.  
"As in an arranged marriage?"  
"Yes. Arranged through _miai._"  
"Oh. Well that makes sense."  
"In the same way that you grew to love the Great Reich, I grew to…"  
"You grew to love your family. More precisely, your sons."  
"_Hai._"  
"You're wrong, though. I don't love the Greater Reich. No, I mean to say that I… I believe in it, because I worked hard to make it into what it is today, but…"  
John struggled to clarify his own thoughts, but it felt like casting a torn net into the sea. The harder he tried, the more numerous the fish that slipped from his grasp. Nervously, he scurried over to the other side of the path, near the water.  
"I don't believe you climbed ranks only to protect your family," Takeshi declared, "I believe you climbed ranks because you _wanted to_."  
This was too much to bear. The Reichsmarschall suddenly turned to face the Colonel again.  
"What do you know about my motives?"  
"Forgive me, I did not mean to presume."  
This was followed by a courteous bow that felt utterly unconvincing. As a sign of hypocritical truce, John gestured to Takeshi, inviting him to draw closer. They stood behind the colonnade, by the glistening lake, and both saw their own reflection on the surface of the water, but only one of them studied it attentively while the other felt safer staring straight ahead.  
"It's funny how things turn out, isn't it, Colonel Kido?"  
"Yes."  
"Colonel," John began hesitatingly, "do you ever wonder what your life might have been like had the Axis lost the war? I mean, do you ever think of what could have been?"  
Takeshi lifted his gaze.  
"There are only two scenarios in which the Japanese Empire would have lost the war," he said. "Fighting to the very last man, or… surrender. In both cases, I know exactly what my fate would have been—death."  
"Even in the case of surrender?"  
"Especially in the case of surrender. Had such a disgrace befallen us, I would have committed _seppuku._ So you see, I do not spend any time thinking of what could have been, because I already know the answer."  
"What if you could see a different version of yourself? A world where your son never fought in the Manchurian campaign and had a loving father who raised him in Japan. Wouldn't you like to have a glimpse of that?"  
Takeshi found John's eyes.  
"No. I would not. Why would I?"  
"Why not?"  
"Because I must live with the consequences of my actions. I'm not interested in any alternatives. The son I have is the son I deserve, and I must accept it. Have you accepted your son's death, Reichsmarschall?"  
John instinctively took a step back and looked away, surprised by the Colonel's straightforwardness.  
"Of course I have," he replied in an expedient manner that made him sound like an obvious liar. What was he thinking, anyway? Did he want to take the Pon to the Pocono mountains? Travel through the portal with him, perhaps?  
"Then stop imagining scenarios in which he is still alive."  
"I'm not imagining anything."  
"You're keeping him alive, one way or another."  
This was dangerous territory. A change of subject was in order, no matter how abrupt:  
"Colonel Kido," he said, his focus sharpening, "I hope you find your son in time, and that you board your ship. I don't think I need to tell you what the people here will do to any Japanese that decide to stay behind, let alone the former Chief Inspector of the Kempeitai."  
"I am aware."  
"And don't go counting on any help from the Greater Reich, or from me. At least, not immediately. We're going to let things get really bad for a while. That way, our… intervention won't just be welcome, it'll be desired."  
"How very strategic."  
They returned to the path and walked side by side again.  
"It's not that I wouldn't want to help you, but I certainly won't be sending troops here prematurely just to save _you_. So you're better off boarding that ship."  
"Neither I nor the Empire require your assistance, Reichsmarschall. We can take care of ourselves, do not be troubled on our account."  
"They've already started hunting down the Japanese. And there will be a big prize on your head, Colonel."  
"I do not intend to let my head be severed from my body anytime soon."  
"Because you're usually the one who severs heads?"  
Takeshi briefly recalled the satisfaction of cutting Frank Frink's head off with one clean stroke.  
_His spilled blood, like calligraphy on the blank page of the desert._  
"I doubt the rebels would be able to do it properly anyway," he retorted, wanting to stop relishing the beauty of that execution in his own mind so perversely. "They'd probably hack at my neck like butchers and make a mess."  
"It will be the fate of all Japanese who are crazy enough to stay behind."  
"All of them? What about those who remain once you've taken over? What do you intend to do with them?"  
John delayed his reply to come up with a diplomatic answer. The truth was, he hadn't even stopped to think of such a scenario. Somehow, he had assumed that they would all just pack their bags and leave. Quietly, and obediently. With zero fuss.  
"We will kindly make sure that they're escorted back to their home country," he tactfully responded.  
"So they shall be expelled, having no place in your perfect society."  
"There are plenty of Japanese visitors in the Reich."  
"Visitors, not citizens."  
"You are honorary Aryans. Any Japanese would be more than welcome to stay. But none has expressed the desire to do so yet."  
"I cannot imagine why."  
"Wouldn't you like to come live in New York? We could make a habit of our conversations."  
"I think, Reichsmarschall , that I would rather have my head severed from my body."  
"Well said!" John sneered.  
At that exact moment, a howling noise echoed through the sky, masking the incessant alarms and lingering sarcasm. Above, a small group of Japanese bomber aircrafts cut through the clouds and flew off into the distance.  
The Reichsmarschall questioned Takeshi with his merciless green eyes.  
"One last mission for our Mansyū Ki-100," the Colonel explained.  
"A parting gift for the BCR?"  
"You could say that, yes."  
"You're wasting your bombs. We'll handle it all in due time."  
"The only wasted bombs are those that are never used."  
The Pon definitely had a point. John couldn't disagree with such martial wisdom. He nodded and pushed back his sleeve to consult his watch.  
"Well, I should get back to my men," he said "I think we ought to wrap things up."  
This was an appropriate moment for Takeshi to take his leave. But there was one last, unnecessary question that remained unanswered, so he found himself following the Reishmarshall to the rotunda.  
"You still haven't given me the counsel I was seeking," he timidly pointed out.  
"What counsel, Colonel?"  
"You may not think of yourself as an exemplary father after all, but I wish to know your opinion anyway: what shall I do about my son? What would_ you_ do, Reichsmarschall?"  
The fact the Pon wanted advice from him honoured John in a deep and unexpected way. He was wrong, of course, but it was flattering nonetheless. This required some thought, so there was a pause before the precious advice could be offered:  
"Give him your life, Colonel. You must do the exact opposite of what he's reproached you. In this case, he finds fault in the fact you gave your life to the Empire. So give your life to your son."  
Takeshi smiled.  
"That is what I am planning to do."  
Having reached the rotunda, they stopped and faced each other. This time, John didn't feel like purposefully making Takeshi uneasy with a handshake, so he struggled to decide how to part ways. Embracing him was _verboten_, and bowing to him was out of the question. Maybe words would suffice…  
"Well, Colonel Kido, I wish you luck. Truly."  
"Thank you, Reichsmarschall. I suppose this is farewell."  
Takeshi prepared to bow, but John's men decided to add more confusion to their already awkward goodbye.  
"Would you like a picture of yourself with the gentleman, sir?" one of the soldiers asked.  
Before he could really think about it, John agreed:  
"Why, yes—why not? Go ahead."  
Takeshi didn't like this at all, but decided to play along rather than show the _gaijin_ even a hint of insecurity. He did his best to hide his concern—no—his _panic_ at the thought that the photo they were about to take might go public somehow. If he felt vindictive because of the BCR files, the Reichsmarschall could send the snapshot to a few newspapers just to humiliate the Japanese Empire, to make make it seem like their noble forfeit of the Pacific States was actually an act of weakness, a simple handover to much stronger allies. Worse still: he could use the photo as evidence to suggest that the former Chief Inspector of the Kempeitai had actually orchestrated the entire thing with the Reichsmarschall of the Greater Reich…The loss of honour incurred, Takeshi could not even consider without feeling utterly nauseated.  
Thankfully, he had a strong stomach. They posed together for the picture, and it was done.  
"Reichsmarschall, may I request—"  
He gathered his multiplying and increasingly paranoid thoughts, reeled in any potential signs of vulnerability.  
"Yes?"  
After a little hesitation, Takeshi bowed.  
"Farewell, Reichsmarschall ," he only said, dismissing his irrational fears, knowing he was powerless anyway.  
_To hell with it all._  
"Farewell, Colonel," John replied, staring at the back of the retreating Pon's head, his restless mind already bent on securing that photograph from his men, and making it disappear forever.  
Not out of the kindness of his heart or out of some vague sense of friendship.  
He just didn't like owing anyone a favour.


End file.
